XXXII
"All this s**t is your fault…" Maddy screeched, scolding her son Derick as usual. "Look how your father has left my hand. Piece of s**t!" She put the bandage on his face and rubbed it scraping his nose. "This is all about you, you piece of shit... How I didn't abort you when I had a chance." "Sorry, mom." Derick hung his head, not feeling hurt, without remorse or shame toward his mother. On the contrary, he loved her in his own way. "Can I do something to make you feel better?" "Yes, actually." Maddy thought carefully about what she wanted to do to the boy, but nothing came to mind. She was somewhat tired and in need of enjoyment. "You can go to your room and stay there all day. I'll call your school and say you're sick. Go... Get out of my sight." "Ok, mommy..
- Writer
